“Dating rules.”
“Dating rules,” I repeated. I didn’t laugh, although it took some effort.
A blush crept up her neck to her cheeks, but her chin rose in defiance of my obvious enjoyment. “Yes, Tyler. Rules. I want to know—”
“What my intentions are toward you?” I kept my face suitably stoic.
She tilted her head to give me a look of disdain, her dark hair falling like strands of silk over her shoulder. “I have questions I want to ask you, but first I want to know how personal I should get,” she clarified. “Because I’ve had my heart torn apart before, and I’d rather avoid it happening again, if at all possible. So, I know you said let’s date and just see what happens, but if you’re planning to keep this…whatever it is between us on the casual side, I really need to know that up front. I just want to know what to expect, and then I can handle whatever gets thrown at me.”
Ah. She was talking about her ex-husband. And the flash of pain in her eyes made me want to hunt the asshole down and smash his head through one of those slot machines.
There were a lot of things I could’ve said in this instance. Flowery things. Things that would take off the pressure. Things that would leave her guessing.
But I couldn’t do any of that. I couldn’t bullshit her. Not with her sitting over there looking so damn tough and yet so damn fragile.
I set down my fork, took a sip of soda, and wiped my mouth with the napkin. Then, I scooted out of the booth nice and easy like and went over to her side. I gestured for her to move over with a lift of my chin, and then I slid in beside her.
I wanted to pull her to me, wrap her up in my arms and hold her until those echoes of her past life were gone from her eyes. I wanted to lay her back in this booth and kiss her senseless. I wanted her to forget any other man that had come before me.
But I didn’t do any of that, because something told me what she needed right now was raw honesty, not a distraction. So, that’s what I gave her.
Grasping her chin firmly, I turned her face fully toward me and forced her to meet my eyes. And then I said very clearly, “I don’t know what’s going to happen with us, Ailee. And if I remember correctly, it wasn’t me, but you, who kept insisting you didn’t want anything serious to happen between us. Playing it cool and asking you if we could just date was the only way I could think of to get you to agree to spend more time with me. But keeping it casual was never my plan, and if I’m gonna be completely honest here, it’s not possible for me at this point in any case. Because, you see,” I paused, searching her face for any indication that this was too much. But there was nothing in her wide blue eyes telling me to stop. “I’m already half in love with you.” Even I could hear the nervous tremor in my voice, and I shook my head against the sudden pain in my temple. “I don’t think it’s your heart in danger of breaking.” I put everything out there. Let it all show. “It’s mine.”
She stared at me, probably wondering if I wasn’t just a little bit insane. And she was probably right. My feelings for her were intense, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.
With a little sound of amusement that was aimed completely at myself, I kissed the tip of her nose, then released her face and indicated the uneaten food on her plate. “Eat. I’m paying good money for this food.” Back on my own side of the booth, I picked up my fork and started eating like I hadn’t just made a profound announcement she totally wasn’t expecting.
After a moment, she slowly picked up her own utensil and followed suit. We shared a few looks—mine amused and hers a bit shell-shocked, but I had effectively shut down any other efforts at conversation with my little speech.
I was the one who broke the silence. “So, go ahead, Ailee. Ask me whatever you want.”
She speared me with a startled look, then looked around like someone else might remember what it was she’d wanted to ask before focusing back on me. “What do you do when you’re not modeling?”
Stuffed, I pushed my plate aside, and settled into the corner of the seat. “You want to know if I’d be able to provide for you.”
“No,” she corrected. “I don’t need you, or anyone, to provide for me. I want to know if you can provide for yourself.”
Feisty. I liked feisty. “So, you’re asking me if I’m looking for a sugar momma.”
“Exactly.”
I laughed out loud. “Nope. That’s not my motive here. Modeling is just a hobby for a little extra cash. As you know, unless I was selling a lot more shots for covers, I wouldn’t survive the month.”
“So, how do you survive?”
By the skin of my teeth these days. “Well, I told you I was in school. I get some extra money through my loans and grants.”
“What else?”
Smart lady. Modeling and school loans together still wouldn’t pay for even an itsy-bitsy apartment in Seattle. Maybe if I had a one room loft and ten roommates.
I pressed my lips together, squinting against the sharp pain in my head. “Um. I have some money in savings.” Enough so I could not work for a good six months or so, actually. I pressed my fingers against my temples.
“You don’t have a regular job?”
“I do some freelance work.” I took a deep breath and pushed away the discomfort with sheer force of will. Gradually, the pain in my head eased up. I should’ve taken something before I left the house, but these headaches had been subsiding. I dropped my hand back into my lap and concentrated on Ailee. I didn’t want to think about this shit right now. “Mostly admin type stuff. I’m actually a virtual assistant for a few authors in the industry. It’s flexible, so I can work around my classes.” I shrugged. “It all adds up.” This was true. I’d been working for five authors at the same time not long ago. They knew me from modeling and when I saw them putting out the call for help, I answered, thinking it would be a great gig for me until I could work out whatever the fuck was going on with me. I did everything from posting on social media to helping them with the legal jargon of being in business for themselves.
Unfortunately, due to these fucking lapses in memory, I’d lost two of them within the past six weeks. Not because they didn’t need me, but because they couldn’t depend on me getting their stuff done when they needed it. And that was completely on me.
